


These hands, your hands

by turnyourankle



Category: Ashlee Simpson (Musician), Gym Class Heroes
Genre: F/M, PWP, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-04
Updated: 2008-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-21 09:27:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4823774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turnyourankle/pseuds/turnyourankle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ashlee doesn't apologize for what she likes. She's not going to deny that she loves that Travis is so much bigger than her: that she has to stand on tiptoe to give him a proper hug, and that he could pick her up with ease if he wanted to. Like now, Travis's hand covers the entirety of her shoulder, the line of his fingers curving around the back; the knowledge that he can usher her anywhere he wants makes her skin tingle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	These hands, your hands

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Porn Battle, so it's porn. Basically. And it's completely made up, not true in the slightest. Unbeta'd.

Ashlee doesn't apologize for what she likes. She's not going to deny that she loves that Travis is so much bigger than her: that she has to stand on tiptoe to give him a proper hug, and that he could pick her up with ease if he wanted to. Like now, Travis's hand covers the entirety of her shoulder, the line of his fingers curving around the back; the knowledge that he can usher her anywhere he wants makes her skin tingle. She knows a lot of people who'd look down on her if they knew, but what they don't know--what's none of their business to know--is that her favorite thing about him is that while he could so easily be in control he isn't.

It'd been that way from the start. The first time they met they'd been on the outskirts of a dance floor, and she told him to follow her lead, her fingers grazing the palm of his hand after shaking it. He hadn't raised a brow, just flashed some teeth and replied, "S'more like follow the leader, ain't it?" She didn't have to back into the floor to know he was behind her.

It's still like that. He doesn't try to be in charge. She flips her hair, knowing it tickles him, and flashes a smile, letting her tongue show between her teeth. He likes it when she's predatory.

Ashlee's got his attention already, but she let's her knuckles drag along his ribs, hipbone, and thigh, only to move her hand to the hem of her skirt, fingers picking at it, directing his attention. He bends down, nuzzling her throat, and taking advantage of the proximity to say, "I'd call you a tease if I didn't know you were good for it."

"That's what she said." She can't help but chuckle at his chuckle, and she lets him kiss her neck before gesturing towards the back with her thumb and a smirk. She's grown up with the necessity of finding staff bathroom's, and knows how to sniff them out. There's no one to stop them from occupying one.

"Hey, babe, hold on to the sink," Travis says, lips wet against her ear as he presses her hands against it, and she jerks her chin up, watching their reflection in the mirror. They've done this before, and he's probably done this with other people, but it always surprises her, the ease with which his hand slides under her panties and the way her body reacts instinctively. She watches, eyes half-lidded, the way her hips buck under the fabric of her skirt, and the way Travis's elbow jerks, only hinting at what his hand is doing.

Travis's knees between her legs, half bending her knees and lifting her. Her hands are bloodless from carrying her weight, arms strained. Ashlee feels like she's floating, heels off the ground, weight split between the sink and Travis's legs.

His stubble is rubbing the back of her neck raw, and when his fingers dig deeper she lifts higher, head rolling back. The bass from the amps dominates even here, and his fingers grow stiff, thrusting to the beat. dragging out the pressure which each of her moans.

Travis's reflection smirks at her, and her arms are shaking with the effort of holding herself up. She doesn't recognize the way her chest heaves in the mirror, only the swell inside it, and the way all the nerves in her body seem to have traveled to spot Travis is rubbing.

One of his arms locks around her waist, his grip tight, and she stops watching, turning her head as far as she can, giving him a kiss before she lets go of the sink.


End file.
